


All I Want For Christmas Is You

by andimeantittosting (Saylee)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Background Claire/Kaia, Canon Divergent from s15e19, Christmas, Christmas Party, Dean Winchester Prays to Castiel, Found Family, Happy Ending, Love, M/M, Resurection, Reunions, Temporary Canon MCD - Cas starts out in the Empty, background Charlie/Stevie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28037781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saylee/pseuds/andimeantittosting
Summary: The reasons Dean might have against celebrating Christmas run the gamut from “Is it too weird when your son is literally God?” to “It's hard to feel festive when your best friend is trapped in the Empty because he confessed his love to you and also you didn’t get a chance to tell him you love him back.” In the end, though, that’s what decides him. Dean’s trying to live his life in a way that honours Cas’s sacrifice and what he would have wanted for him.Dean and Sam invite all their friends and family to share Christmas in the bunker with them, but Dean's still missing Cas and searching for a way to rescue him. As everyone sits down to Christmas dinner, there is a knock on the door.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, implied Eileen Leahy/Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester
Comments: 54
Kudos: 361
Collections: SPN Finale "Destiel is CANON" Collection





	All I Want For Christmas Is You

**Author's Note:**

> Have some holiday cheer with a happy ending <3 <3 <3
> 
> Many thanks to the always wonderful [MalMuses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalMuses/pseuds/MalMuses) for betaing <3

Sam signs a goodbye into his laptop as Dean enters the library, and closes the lid. “So, that was Eileen,” he remarks in that faux casual way that says he’s trying to be sensitive about his happiness in front of his brother. From what Dean can tell, their relationship is going well—very well, if Sam’s blushes are anything to go by. 

Dean considers teasing his brother about the distinct pink tint he still gets when talking to Eileen, but decides to let it drop. Sam had fought as long and hard as Dean. He deserves this little bit of happiness. “She headed back this way soon?” he asks instead. 

Eileen has been gone a week, helping some of the alternate universe hunters set up a new hub in one of the old Men of Letters’ chapterhouses. It’s been her and Sam’s pet project, setting up a network so that hunters can help each other more easily while still maintaining their independence. Eileen does most of the legwork, with Sam staying behind for the lessons on witchcraft Rowena insists on giving him, her first act after being restored to Earth when Jack had set things right being to draft Sam as her apprentice. He’d been less reluctant than Dean had expected, and it’s proving surprisingly good for him. 

“She’s leaving the day after tomorrow,” Sam answers now. “She wants to celebrate Christmas at the bunker.”

“And what did you say?” Dean pulls out a chair and drops into it. “Did you tell her you hate Christmas?”

“I don’t hate Christmas,” Sam protests. “I just—things are different now. But, uh, I told her I would have to ask you first. Are you okay celebrating Christmas this year?”

It’s a loaded question. The reasons Dean might have against celebrating Christmas run the gamut from “Is it too weird when your son is literally God?” to “It's hard to feel festive when your best friend is trapped in the Empty because he confessed his love to you and also you didn’t get a chance to tell him you love him back.”

In the end, though, that’s what decides him. Dean’s trying to live his life in a way that honours Cas’s sacrifice and what he would have wanted for him. So, while Dean has no intention of giving up the search for a way to rescue Cas, he can share one good day with the family he has right now. Cas would never begrudge Dean a day to rest and recharge and remember what they saved the world for in the first place. 

"Sure," Dean says to Sam. "Let's celebrate Christmas."

Of course, it doesn't stay as simple as that. Sam and Eileen are great, but Sam hasn't been Dean's whole family in a long time. So, there are calls to make, to Bobby, to Donna, to Jody and the girls, to Charlie, to Kevin (now in the nice, new, non-ghosty body Jack had gifted him with while setting the world to rights) and his mom. Rowena gets an invite when she breezes by for Sam's latest magic lesson, and while she makes them promise not to make her wear reindeer antlers—whatever that's about—she says she'll be there.

Jack, of course, gets an invitation. "Our son, who art part of everything these days," Dean prays. "Not sure what you're doing on the twenty-fifth—might be a busy day for you—but if you're free, come on by for Chrstmas. I've got the good kind of Christmas crackers, and I'm making candied yams. We'd love to have you."

Unsurprisingly, he gets no response, but since Jack doesn't exactly have a phone number these days, it's the best he can do. At least he's put it out there.

With the promise of a full house, the festivities stretch to encompass more than the one day Dean had been counting on. First, Sam comes home with groceries for the meal Dean's going to make, and Dean discovers that his brother's idea of adequate Christmas desserts are some store-bought butter cookies and an unappetizing fruitcake.

"Sorry, Cas," Dean prays, as he heads back to the grocery store alone for baking supplies. "I promise I'm still looking for you."

He bakes well into the evening, creating a mountain of cookies and leaving floury fingerprints on the pages of the lore books he looks through in between batches. He takes the books back to his room along with a plateful of apple pie thumbprint cookies, and falls asleep sometime after two a.m. with one open to a promising chapter still splayed across his chest.

The next day, Dean is prepared to return to his routine of looking for ways to free Cas from the Empty, but this time Eileen is the one to derail him. "You don't have any decorations. Not even a tree."

Dean's prepared to let tree shopping be a couple's activity. It sounds like the cute kind of date Sam and Eileen deserve, but they decline his offer to stay behind. 

Somehow, Rowena is already at the Christmas tree farm when they arrive, decked out in a scarlet coat with fur trim and smiling a mysterious smile. Sam looks as surprised to see her as Dean is, but not Eileen. Dean's not quite sure when the two of them became friends, but soon they're flanking Sam and traipsing merrily down the aisles of trees, leaving Dean to trail behind. 

He doesn't mind. There's something peaceful about being hemmed in by green on both sides, breathing in the smell of pine and listening to the laughter of families, and even the cheesy Christmas music being piped through tinny speakers. Cas would like this place, he thinks. If— _ when _ —he gets Cas back, Dean's going to bring him every year. He imagines walking down the lane of trees with Cas's hand in his and feels a pang in his chest.

He catches up with the others in time to watch Eileen fell a tree and once it's wrapped even allows it to be strapped to Baby's roof. If she does get scratched, well, maybe a day spent taking care of something he loves and fixing up his best girl will be just what he needs. They end up leaving with not just the tree, but an armful of handmade ornaments and more swathes of greenery, studded with pinecones and red berries than any home can possibly need.

Sam's already bought a tree stand and lights, and Rowena produces some extremely alcoholic eggnog from who knows where. Dean gets roped into the decorating party and somewhere along the way ends up wearing a scratchy garland as a feather boa. 

"Wish you were here to share this," he prays to Cas as, at last, they step back together to admire the tree. "Next year, I promise." He's a little drunk and missing Cas is an ache that never goes away, but mostly he feels filled with warmth.

When he sobers up, he does manage to get an hour of research in before bed, and he ends his evening as he does every night, with a prayer to Cas, hoping against hope that it will reach him in the Empty.

"Hey, Cas," he says to the quiet space of his room. "I'm trying to live the life I think you'd want for me. I think I'm doing okay. But I haven't forgotten you either, and I'm still looking for a way to bring you back, because if anyone deserves a chance to live their life, it's you. And I still have things to say to you. So, hang in there, buddy. Wait for me one more time."

There's no answer, of course, but Dean sleeps with the peace of knowing that somehow, some way, he will rescue Cas. It's enough.

*****

Dean gets in a few research hours on the morning of Christmas Eve, following a lead on creating a tether. He hasn't quite figured out whether the tether is meant to be literal or metaphorical before their first guests arrive and he sets aside the yellowing tome to embrace Jody, Alex, and Patience.

"Claire and Kaia will be along soon," Jody promises after Dean releases her from a bear hug. "There was no way I was driving with all four in my car."

Alex laughs. "Love you too, Mom." 

"I brought almond squares." Patience offers the brightly decorated tin in her arms, and Dean whisks it off to the kitchen to join his own baking. 

When he returns, Kevin and Linda are there too, stomping the snow off their boots and he bounds up the stairs to greet them.

Dean's loved ones continue to arrive in ones and twos and threes over the next few hours, until the bunker feels like it's bursting at the seams. At one point, Dean turns around, and there's Jack, standing there in the middle of the library, a Santa hat perched atop his head.

"Hello," he says brightly, and, God or not, Dean catches him in a back patting hug. 

"Good to have you home, kiddo," he says, voice catching almost imperceptibly.

For hours, the bunker is alight with life and love and holiday spirit, perhaps amplified by the fact that the world almost didn't survive this year, but it has and they have, and they're free to live their lives.

Dean looks around at the faces of his family. Charlie and Stevie are throwing candied popcorn into each other's mouths. Bobby, Jody and Donna are deep in conversation. Both Rowena and Eileen are leaning comfortably against Sam, and that development leaves Dean raising his eyebrows, but hey, they all deserve a little happiness. Garth and Bess and their little ones had Skyped in just after dinner to deliver Christmas wishes.

Earlier, Claire had caught Dean alone in the kitchen and hugged him fiercely, before stepping back and looking anywhere but at him. "I'm sorry he's gone," she'd muttered, letting her hair hide most of her face, but Dean had been touched all the same. Now he watches her half-sprawled on the couch Sam had bought when they started living like real people, Kaia curled up in her lap, and he thinks she understands.

Before bed, he says his nightly prayer to Cas, adding something on the end. He hasn't been saying it, saving it for when he can tell Cas face-to-face, but he's been surrounded by love all night, reminded that love is limitless. Saying it now won't make it mean less when he says it again. He can say it as many times as he wants, and Cas deserves to hear it. Dean wants to say it.

"Hang in there, buddy," he says. "And, Cas, I love you too."

It's out there in the universe now. Dean goes to sleep with a smile on his face.

*****

Christmas morning begins as it should, with a mountain of bacon and the candy cane flavoured coffee blend Donna brought for everyone. Once the pyjama-clad masses have been fed, Dean sets to the real work of the day—preparing a Christmas feast. Jack offers to help with his powers, but some things are better done by hand. Dean makes it his job to stuff the turkey instead, since Jack's enthusiasm for helping is undeterred by the less desirable jobs.

Everyone takes turns floating in and out of the kitchen, helping out where they can. All the extra hands make light work, and eventually, they all sit down to a spread that would make Julia Child weep from joy.

They've just popped their party crackers, unfolding their tissue paper crowns and comparing their trinkets and jokes, when a loud knocking echoes from the bunker's door. 

"Are we expecting someone else?" Sam asks, looking around at the gathered faces.

"Not that I know of. But the more the merrier, right?" Dean pushes his chair back and heads for the metal stairs, something in his chest telling him that this - this is important.

He opens the door, and there, looking sheepish but whole and alive, is Cas.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he says. "It turns out it's hard to hitchhike on Christmas, and I didn't want to steal a car."

Dean has been staring at him, open-mouthed, but his brain finally buffers, and suddenly he's got an armful of trenchcoated angel, and damn the fact that he hasn't said anything yet, damn the fact that everyone's watching, his lips find Cas's and he kisses him full on the mouth.

"Welcome home, Cas," he says to Cas's dazed face when they part. "You're just in time for turkey."

Somehow, an extra chair and extra place setting are conjured up from somewhere, and everyone shuffles their seats together closer so that Cas can sit next to Dean. Dean takes Cas's hand, laces their fingers together, and descends the stairs, where Cas is pulled away from him again, this time to be mobbed with hugs from the people who love him, Jack leading the charge, with Sam close behind. He's passed around from person to person to be showered with affection, before he's finally released and they sit down to eat, Dean popping his paper crown on Cas's head.

There's a rush of noise and laughter as everyone fills their plates, serving dishes being passed every which way around the table and the gravy boat almost being upended. Under the hubbub, Dean leans towards Cas and murmurs for his ears only, "I was going to rescue you, you know."

Cas's smile is heartbreakingly fond. "I know. You did. Your prayers were what kept me awake when the Empty tried to force me to sleep, but I needed a tether to get myself out. And then last night, I heard what you said, and that was what I needed. I was able to follow that thread and pull myself out of the Empty. You were what I needed."

"You, uh—you heard that, huh?" Dean can feel his face colour, but he keeps his head ducked close to Cas's.

"I did." Cas's eyes are soft. "You don't need to say it again if it's hard for you."

"No," Dean says. "No, I want to say it." Heedless of everything around them, he catches up Cas's hands in both of his, searching his radiant face. "I love you, Cas. I love you the way you love me. I have for years. I didn't—I didn't know you felt the same. I didn't know if angels even could."

"Angels aren't meant to," Cas admits. "I didn't know what was happening to me at first. But you, Dean, were worth it. You're worth everything. Although, uh," he glanced away, "you should know that I'm not an angel anymore. I removed my grace to nullify the Empty's claim on me. I'm human."

"Are you okay with that?"

"I am."

"Then, uh"—Dean tightens his grip on Cas's hands—"do you want to spend your human life with—with me?"

"Yes," says Cas. "I do."

Their lips meet and it tastes like home, at least until a bread roll bounces off Dean's forehead.

"Alright, who threw that?" Dean growls with no heat. Too many pairs of eyes sparkle with innocence and barely restrained laughter for him to pick out the culprit.

"Come on, old man," Claire drawls. "You're holding up production."

Dean blinks and realizes that a substantial percentage of the serving dishes have piled up to either side of his and Cas's relatively empty plates.

"Yeah, yeah," he says, taking up the bowl of candied yams and adding a healthy scoop to his and Cas's plates. He passes it to Cas to continue its way around the table and picks up the next dish. "Hold your horses. Can't a man have a minute to confess his love?"

That earns him a series of whoops and hollers and a few shouts of "Finally." 

"Congratulations," Sam's face is the picture of earnestness. "I'm so happy for both of you."

Claire doesn't say anything, but later she'll bump against Dean in the corridor and tell him, "Good job," a tentative smile playing about her mouth.

For now, everyone finishes filling their plates, and they dig in, conversation dropping off in favour of noises of appreciation as they taste their first bites. Candlelight glints off of glasses and the sparkling snowflake ornaments Eileen had selected, painting the faces of Dean's loved ones in a warm golden glow.

They eat until they're stuffed, and then Dean breaks out the cookies and somehow they find room for more. All the while, Dean steals glances at the miracle sitting beside him, eating his food, and looking back at Dean just as often.

Hours later, when everyone finally begins retreating to bed, Dean takes Cas's hand. "Want to stay in my room tonight?"

Cas looks at him like he's something precious. "Of course."

They separate so Dean can tidy away a few last minute things before bed. Sam finds him in the kitchen and gives him a tight hug before Dean can object, not that he's planning to.

"Merry Christmas, Dean."

"Merry Christmas, Sammy. I'm glad it was a good one for both of us." 

"It really was." Sam's looking a little misty eyed, so Dean claps him on the shoulder. "Go on. I'm sure you've got someone—or someones—waiting for you."

Sam's red ears give him away and Dean laughs. "Good for you, man, really."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam brushes him off, smiling. "I'm sure Cas is waiting for you."

"Yeah." Dean grins. "He is."

When Sam disappears through the kitchen entrance, Dean turns and finds Jack looking at him.

"Just like your dad," he says. "We've got to get you a bell. You sticking around?"

For a god, Jack looks uncertain. "If that's okay. I've missed Cas. I'd like to spend more time with him and with all of you—my family. I think I've figured out how to balance non-interference with having a physical presence," he adds hopefully.

Dean ruffles his hair. "You're always welcome, Jack. This is your home."

Jack beams at him, golden and bright. "In that case, I'll be watching Christmas movies in the Dean Cave while everyone's sleeping. I want to learn about Rudolph." With that, he bounds away happily, the divine resembling nothing so much as an overgrown golden retriever.

Humming a Christmas carol to himself, Dean shuts off the lights and makes his own way to his room, where Cas is waiting for him, real and human and alive, loving Dean as much as Dean loves him. Dean quickens his pace.

When he pushes open his bedroom door, Cas is there, love in his eyes and radiating from his whole body, arms already opening for Dean. Dean closes the distance between them, wrapping Cas in his arms, and murmuring those most important words into his skin. "I love you, Cas," he repeats, as many times as Cas needs to hear it. "I love you."

Dean will say this, he got one hell of an awesome Christmas gift this year.


End file.
